Montross A Central Figure In Carolina Basketball History

Well, no one else has gone in this direction the last few days, so let me be the first to say I have a major complaint with Eric Montross.

The man was extraordinary in giving you a massive inferiority complex. There, I said it.

Hang with him at a restaurant, in an Uber or God forbid when walking into a basketball arena, and you found out very quickly how insignificant and ghost-like the rest of the world found you.

It was 'Hey Big E," or "Love ya Montross," or more recently, "Go get 'em Big Grits," everywhere and all the time. The man was loved and gave it right back ten-fold. The rest of us were along for the ride and enjoyed every minute with him.

Size - he had you beat by a mile. Not just as a seven-foot, 240-pound freight train in Converses (or later Nikes and Alexander Julian denims), but did you ever shake his hand? He had a grip that enveloped you like a blanket.

Recognition factor - he was the All-America starting center with size 20 shoes and a flat top on a national championship team in an era when Carolina-Duke, Final Fours and an emerging promotional force in college basketball, ESPN, went hand-in-hand.

Grace - check. How many times in his far-too-short 52 years on this earth do you think he was asked about his size or had to make accommodations just to get in a car or a hotel shower. If you need a laugh during these somber days, try and picture the man folding into the front seat of a Honda Civic because one of his broadcast partners or yours truly clicked on the wrong profile on the car app.

And yet I never saw him lose his cool with the latest 'how's the weather up there' joke or the Duke or State fan who couldn't resist yet another juvenile crack.

You want to be the most liked guy in the room? You better hope Eric wasn't around. Didn't matter if there was a teammate from years gone by, a Tar Heel fan, or a stranger he never met before, he was universally loved – not liked – loved. If the person he was meeting happened to be a young child, or in a hospital ward or a senior citizen, he made them feel like they were the most important person in the world. To Eric, they were. That was just his way. And he was so damn good at making you feel it.

Several years ago, when celebrating the 25^th anniversary of the 1993 national championship, the Tar Heel players, managers, coaches and staff gathered again for a team photo. They left open chairs for head coach Dean Smith and assistant coach Bill Guthridge. Sadly, the next time this special group reconvenes, another spot in the photo will be left open, this time for Eric.

So much of the commentary the last two days since he died were rightly centered not on his basketball prowess, but his character and accomplishments as a man. In fact, I did several TV interviews about Eric and repeatedly said he would want to be known more for his exploits as a father, husband and son, his active participation at United Presbyterian Church, his role in raising critical funding and awareness in the fight against cancer, especially in kids and young adults, and the money he raised with the Rams Club so other student-athletes could go to Carolina than his accomplishments as a player.

That said, and no disrespect intended, but now I also want to talk a little ball. Because there was nothing little in this man's game. And he was a major force in college basketball and the trajectory in the history of Carolina basketball the last three-plus decades.

Pat Sullivan, today an assistant coach at his alma mater, and a Jersey kid who famously made the front end of one of the most memorable one-and-ones in Final Four history, was part of the five-man recruiting class in 1990 that included New Yorkers Derrick Phelps and Brian Reese, heralded power forward Clifford Rozier and Montross, the prize of the bunch from Indianapolis.

Carolina hadn't been to a Final Four since cutting down the nets in New Orleans in 1982, and there were whispers and even not-so-quiet grumblings the game had moved past Dean Smith. So, Sullivan went the extra mile to get the center from the heart of Big Ten country to commit to the Tar Heels.

"The four of us (Derrick, Brian, Cliff and Pat) had committed early, but Eric hadn't committed yet and he was a big deal, so every time Coach Guthridge or Coach Ford would call us and ask what number we wanted or where we wanted to live, I'd call Eric too, to start building a relationship," says Sullivan. "This was before cell phones and social media, and one day my mom saw in the paper Eric had committed to Carolina. We were jumping for joy, super excited because he gave us the No. 1 recruiting class in the country, and we knew it gave us an awesome chance to win Coach Smith another national championship."

Sullivan credits Eric's dominant low-post play, plus his leadership and ability to bring guys together, as some of the necessary components in bringing the trophy home to Chapel Hill in '93.

"We got to the Final Four as freshmen (in 1991), but that team was led mostly by Rick Fox, Pete Chilcutt, Hubert (Davis) and King (Rice). The next year we felt bad that we couldn't win it for Hubert because he had such a great senior year, but our group had started to play more, took our lumps a little and got to the Sweet 16.

"But we were really upset about all the talk about Coach Smith, so Eric and the rest of us decided we were going to end all that. We put in the work, and we built a lot of camaraderie playing on the intramural softball team that summer. We really wanted to win the championship t-shirt, but the football team smacked us in the finals. We never got one of those t-shirts, but we had so much fun, we went to the movies, we did all those things together as friends. So, we had great chemistry in '93."

For all the recent talk about what a darned nice guy Eric was, Sullivan well remembers how the big man had a competitive streak that fueled Montross' and the Tar Heels' success.

"Oh yeah, he was super-competitive, similar to how Hubert is," says Sullivan. "Of course, Eric was super nice off the court, we all know that. But he had a little nasty streak to him when he played. Maybe it took a little to get him there, but once you pushed him too far, that was it and there was nothing you could do to stop it. When he decided to power through you, he was going to get the rebound or dunk the ball. You were just in harm's way, and you better get out of the way. Some of my teammates got new dental bridges thanks to Eric, thank God it wasn't me, but it was pretty funny when he got going. That's how ultra-competitive he was."

By choosing Carolina over Indiana, Michigan (where he was a legacy) and Duke, Montross played a central role in a decade in which the Tar Heels played in five Final Fours in eight years, competed in eight ACC Tournament championship games and won four ACC titles.

The "Bloody Montross" game in 1992 is epic because of the grizzly visuals, but Eric preferred to remember the game for the Tar Heels knocking off the defending and eventual champion Blue Devils. Regretfully, the 1993 national championship game against Michigan ended the way it did because too many people recall the Chris Webber timeout-that-couldn't-be-called and technical foul and not the brilliant shooting by Donald Williams or the way Montross and George Lynch neutralized their more-heralded frontcourt opponents.

The 1993 Tar Heels don't get the credit they should, not because it wasn't a great college basketball team, but because none of the players were showmen and none of them went on to spectacular NBA careers. Lynch played a dozen seasons in the League and started in an NBA Finals with the 76ers, but Montross' eight-year career was cut short by injuries. Not surprising, but the wear-and-tear of moving 250 or so pounds down a wooden floor hundreds of games and practices each year tends to take its toll on the feet and ankles.

Coach Smith's second national title and the way they took down the flashy Fab Five made Montross and his teammates Carolina Royalty forever, and he was the one who by living in Chapel Hill and working for so many years in the Rams Club and with the radio network was able to bask in the glow of being Eric Montross.

Hah. If you wanted to make friends with Eric, you needn't bring up his 23 points in the national semifinals, his dunk in the final moments against the Wolverines, multiple All-America awards, the 1,627 points or 900-plus rebounds, or even that bloody cut on his forehead – you just simply had to say hello.

Hubert Davis loved him. Loved him as a teammate and a friend. Roy Williams loved him. Loved recruiting him (says he knew Eric would fit best at Carolina with Coach Smith), loved competing against him in two Final Fours and loved him as coach when he asked Eric to help raise money from the other former players to benefit the basketball program. But mostly Davis and Williams just loved watching the man make friends with anyone and everyone.

Sean May loved him. They were both big men from Indiana who chose Carolina as teenagers, won titles, made Chapel Hill their homes and raised families here. He didn't know Eric when he came to UNC in 2002, but he cherishes the memories of time they spent together.

"Eric just always poured into me whatever he saw on the floor, especially once I was done playing, and I was around his camps," says May. 'We really got close once I started on staff here because we sat next to each other on the plane. I have missed and will continue to miss him not being there, being present on every road trip.

"I've looked up to the way he modeled his life as a family man, as a player and just as a human being," continues May. "The way he carried himself. I want to be like that; I want to make the kind of impact he had on people. When we're all gone from this place, you hope people can say they're better off for having you in their life. Well, everybody that met Eric can say that. He is truly an amazing man."

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